


what the dormouse said

by CallicoKitten



Series: put your name and blood on everyone and make the evening news [5]
Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice
Genre: Gaslighting, Gen, M/M, Mental Institutions, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Post-Movie(s), bruce wayne and his poor life choices, ur fave trash author is back holla
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 04:37:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7603678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallicoKitten/pseuds/CallicoKitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Time for your medicine, Lex," Dr Crane says.</p><p>-</p><p>or, Lex goes to Arkham</p>
            </blockquote>





	what the dormouse said

**Author's Note:**

> look who's baaaack.
> 
> so at the end of the ultimate edition, batman promises to send lex to arkham to keep an eye on him. since all of bruce's life choices seem to backfire spectacularly i figured why not write this. i borrowed the scarecrow from the nolanverse and messed with him as i tend to do.
> 
> follows [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6862720) but you don't need to have read it.
> 
> im pretty sure i'll write something more for these idiots someday but if you have any suggestions hit me up on [tumblr](http://paracosmss.tumblr.com/)
> 
> title is from white rabbit by jefferson airplane

"Time for your medicine, Lex," Dr Crane says.

Dr Crane is tall and pale and speaks with a sigh in his voice. He is too bright for a place like Arkham and Lex likes to think, in his saner moments, that if they'd met in different circumstances, they could have brought the world to its knees.

Alas, Lex is mad and Dr Crane is his attending physician. An attending physician who seems to be taking the Hippocratic Oath as more of a suggestion than a legally binding contract but then again, Lex is hardly in a position to judge.

Dr Crane, Lex thinks, is probably not one of Bruce's friends. Or maybe he is. Maybe Bruce is far darker than Lex ever dreamt. Maybe this is why Bruce wanted him in Arkham.

Lex takes a breath. He has learnt by now that it is easier to just inhale, to accept Crane's medicine and get it over with. Holding his breath and backing away only serves to disappoint his doctor and when Crane is disappointed things get markedly worse.

The first time, Lex was speechless. There, before him in the room, stood his father. It was interesting, Crane had noted, that in the face of Gods and Monsters - both of whom Lex has royally pissed off - Lex's worst fear is still daddy's wrath, daddy's disappointment and daddy's wondering hands.

Lex of course doesn't pay much attention to Crane's observations that time. Daddy is _mad._

Now, Lex is building up a tolerance.

Crane's face still distorts - his voice becomes a growl of _Junior_. Mercy is with him today, lounging behind him, chewing on _Hershey's_ bar. They used to bicker about that - chocolate over candy.

 _Hm,_ Crane says, from very far away. _You seem to have built up a tolerance, Mr Luthor._

Lex closes his eyes to the next bit. Feels his father's hand slide around his throat. Someone is crying somewhere. A creature from worlds Lex cannot even imagine is coming, coming to destroy them all and his father is _angry._

Lex whimpers.

 _Now tell me,_ Crane's voice is everywhere and nowhere. His father's breath is hot in his ears - Darkseid towers over him. _Tell me what you learnt from the Kryptonian ship._

Lex _said_ Crane was clever, didn't he?

\---

Once upon a time, Lex was a prince. He had a palace and doting servants and a demon to be slain.

\---

"Tell me about your father, Lex," Dr Crane says during their second conversation. He is bored, Lex knows. Crane finds Lex boring.

Lex wonders what kind of patients Crane has seen that he thinks the man who raised a demon to slay Superman is _boring._ It's almost offensive. Then again, Gotham has always played things a little _darker_ to Metropolis. Lex stopped being shocked by the hideous things Gotham seemed to inspire in people a couple of decades back.

Crane was probably _born_ underwhelmed by his city and it's horrors.

He waits expectantly.

Lex could launch into his usual spiel, _well, you know, Daddy grew up in East Germany, waving daisies at dictators_ but he doesn't. Crane will make him talk eventually but for now, Lex does not want to play along.

Crane has probably been passed report after report on Lex, a catalogue of scars that tell a tale, the assessments of three psychiatrists who declared him unfit to stand trial. Maybe Crane assumes Lex paid them off.

Besides, who would ask about his father when they could ask about his demon? Superman's Doomsday?

"No," Lex decides. "Why don't _you_ tell _me_ about _your_ father, Dr Crane? I'm sure you got more than enough from your little _experiment_ yesterday."

A flicker of amusement passes by Crane's icy blues. "That's not how this works, Mr Luthor."

Lex rolls his eyes, "Well you're no _fun._ " It's no big deal anyway. Lex figures Crane's dad was either cold and distant or out of the picture entirely. Crane isn't exactly a mystery. He's a narcissist; he has control issues and the kind of clinical detachment that a hundred or so years ago would have made him an esteemed researcher.

 _Can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs_ , Lex thinks.

"Now, your father," Crane drones on.

Lex sighs, flops backwards on his bed.

Crane exhales slowly, through his nose. "If you're being uncooperative, Mr Luthor, I will have to medicate you," he warns monotonously.

"You know," Lex says, to the ceiling. "I'm pretty sure that _medicine_ you're using isn't strictly FDA approved."

"No," Crane agrees. Lex hears him stand. "But who would believe you, Mr Luthor?"

There is a hiss and Lex braces himself, holds his breath, digs blunt nails into his palms, into the barely healed scar that bore his abomination.

 _Close your eyes, Lex,_ his mother used to say. _Say your prayers._

The gas seeps in.

He hears the slide-snap of his father's belt.

 _Tell me about your father,_ Crane demands.

 

\---

"Your serum," Lex begins, on their third-fourth-fifth-sixth session. "What's in it?"

Crane heaves out a sigh, "That, Mr Luthor, is none of your business."

"Well, it must have a powerful hallucinogen, stimulates the amygdala, doesn't seem to be addictive, though. You couldn't sell it on the streets. It also has the fortunate side-effect of knocking me right out after I've screamed myself raw so, opiate, I'm guessing?"

Crane is watching him, that mild amusement in his gaze again, as though Lex is a particularly talented pet.

Lex smirks, "There's a blue poppy, grows in the Himalayas, I believe."

Something in Crane's gaze flickers.

"The Ancients used to use it in rituals. To prove a warriors worthiness. If they could defeat the demons in their mind, they could defeat them in the real world."

"Very good, Mr Luthor," Crane says, a new shade of venom in his tone.

"Well, I _do_ try," Lex beams. "I'm guessing it doesn't sell well on the streets. So what, you just cooked it up to torture helpless mental patients like little old me?"

The corner of Crane's mouth twitches. It's almost a smile. "Something like that," he says, wryly.

Lex breathes in when he hears the gas release this time. Figures he'll give Crane a _show._

\---

_Tenth-eleventh-twelvth._

"You know," Lex says. "Just last week I was reading that solitary confinement is by far the easiest way to drive someone mad."

Dr Crane's mouth twitches again, "You've been here over almost two months, Mr Luthor," he says, silky smooth.

It's like a record skipping, Lex's brain stutters, jutters, restarts. Two months? _Two months?_ (His hair hasn't grown that much, it can't have been that long.

_Two months._

"Of course," Lex says, but the beats been missed and Crane has seen. Crane's practically _grinning_. "Must have slipped my mind. Happens often when you've lost it. Your mind, that is."

Crane hums.

"Let me guess," Lex says, he draws one knee to his chest, lets his other leg dangle off the edge of the bed. "You want me to tell you about my father."

Crane straightens his glasses, "Actually, I thought we'd take a break and talk about Superman today." He leans forwards, steeples his fingers under his chin. "Tell me: why did you feel he had to die?"

\---

Crane's gas makes Lex's throat raw.

It's more a toxin.

"I should have let you die," Superman says.

Lex is in the corner. Trying to press himself into the wall.

Superman's jaw is clenched, his eyes regretful, full of rage and hate and _I'll take you in without breaking you._ Lex shudders, Lex blinks.

"You _wouldn't,_ " Lex says, thinking of the thud of his abomination's fist meeting good old Clark Jo's.

"So God is all-good after all," Superman says. His suit is dirty, bloody, torn.

"But not all powerful," Lex sings.

 _Fascinating,_ Crane says.

\---

When Crane is gone all Lex has is four padded walls - walls that scream and cry and whisper at night, walls that close in, the swallow everything.

Lex has no idea how long he's been in here.

\---

_Twenty-third. Thirtieth. Hundredth._

"Why Batman?" Crane asks.

"Why Batman?" Lex echoes.

Why Batman? Why Batman indeed.

(Mercy is perched on the end of his bed. Her hair is singed, her clothes are black with soot. She rolls her eyes, unwrapping a Hershey's Kiss - they used to bicker about that, chocolate over sweets. "How long do you think it'll take him to work out you're head over heels with him?"

Lex ignores her. Just because he's crazy doesn't mean he has to start acting like it.)

\---

" _Johnny,_ " Lex greets. ( _Three-hundredth. Four-hundredth._ )

Dr Crane looks mildly surprised. "You bribed a nurse?" he guesses.

Lex saw it on the dry cleaning tags actually, but Crane doesn't need to know that. "You're limping," Lex notes. It's subtle, barely visible. Crane has pulled a muscle in abdomen, Lex guesses. He doesn't look the type to attempt _yoga._ "Fun night?"

Crane says nothing. He sits down slowly, gingerly and presses the release button on his gas canister.

 _Spoil sport,_ Lex thinks.

"Now, Lex. Let's talk about the Kyrptonian ship."

\---

"Were you bullied as a child, Dr?" Lex asks.

_Thousandth, probably._

"Were _you_?" Crane deflects, all too frostily. _Ding, ding._ Sore spot. Incidentally, Lex wasn't let near other children for long enough to be bullied. Homeschooled all his life. He has read studies since that note that homeschooled children are often socially stunted. He wonders how it compares with children sent to school to be tortured by their peers.

"Well, it seems _you_ are wearing the handcuffs here," Crane says, when Lex posits this out loud. "So I would argue that of the two of us, I came out in a more favourable position."

"And yet, I'm still richer than you."

Crane scowls. "I think we ought to talk about upping your dosage, what do you think, Mr Luthor."

Lex spreads his hands, "Well, you said it, Doc. I'm the one in handcuffs here."

" _Excellent,_ " Crane purrs. "Let's talk about your father again."

\---

 _Did you kill your father, Lex?_ Crane's voice is loud and rasping.

(His father kneels, bloody. Lex feels his bones crunch together, blood spurts across the room.)

"Yes," Lex laughs. "Yes, yes, _yes._ He begged me to stop - _begged_ me  - begged _me_!"

 _Did you, Lex? Did you really?_ Crane rumbles.

Of course he did. Lex remembers. Lex dreams. (Lex has the noise of shock his father made when Lex bit back memorised for lonely nights.)

_You, Lex, really? You were what, sixteen? How is that possible?_

\---

"Bet you don't get much on the street for your gas, Dr John," Lex says. His throat is raw, his voice cracks. Crane has tweaked his formula. _More bite for your buck._

"Oh," Crane says, like they're old friends. "I don't know. Depends what kind of street."

"Weapons contractors," Lex guesses. God, the things he could have _done_ with Crane's gas. "Better keep an eye out for the Bat! Don't wanna end up in here with the crazies." He snorts, inelegantly. "Well, on _this_ side of the crazies, anyway."

\---

Today the toxin brings Darkseid.

Big, hulking.

He is going to kill them all.

 _You must have had someone,_ Crane says, in the distance.

"Mercy," Lex pants. "I had Mercy." _Lord have Mercy on my soul._ He laughs.

 _You killed her,_ Crane observes.

"Well, she tried to kill me once, too," Lex says. All's fair in love and war, after all. It's not _Lex's_ problem that he turned out to be better at it than Mercy.

 _No one else?_ Crane asks.

 _Bruce,_ Lex thinks. Maybe. Sort of. Not really.

 _I thought not,_ Crane rumbles. _People with your particular blend of disorders don't lend themselves to relationships._

Darkseid raises his fist but there's no man in red and blue to save Lex this time.

\---

_You say you killed your father, Lex?_

"I did. I _did._ " He did. He memorised the sound. Kept the bloody clothes until they became a liability. He _did._

_I don't believe you. You don't seem **strong** enough._

( _Go ahead and tell them, Junior,_ his father used to say. _Who'd believe you over **me.**_ )

\---

They strap him down after a while; he gets violent when he's out of his mind with fear apparently.

(It's strange. He used to cower in corners, wet the bed. Daddy _loved_ that.)

Lex wakes up, wrists strapped to bed (and his mind slips back, _Bruce,_ he thinks, without meaning to - )

They haven't unstrapped him today.

\---

 _If you didn't kill your father,_ Crane says, he wears a mask now. Or maybe he's always looked that way.

Tall and gangly and burlap-y.

_If you didn't kill your father, Lex, why should I believe anything else you say?_

The Scarecrow has a point, Lex supposes.

\---

Maybe he didn't kill his father.

Maybe.

Maybe he dreamt Doomsday. Maybe he dreamt Darkseid.

Maybe.

Maybe.

_Maybe._

\---

It's harder and harder to keep a grip on things. He blames the lack of stimulation. Use it or lose it! As daddy used to say. The brain is a muscle just like anything.

Well, that and the drugs.

\---

Crane is limping.

Favouring his right side.

Pulled a muscle in his abdomen.

"Rough night, Doc?" Lex asks.

They've put him in a jacket. A straightjacket. Keeps him tight and still.

His vision is blurred at the edges. He's been composing a warning label for the good Doctor's home-brewed fear toxin:

  _Side effects may include: dry mouth, dizziness, blurred vision and abject terror. If experiencing any of these contact prescribing physician._

_If prescribing physician is an unhinged lunatic accept your fate._

"No rougher than yours, I imagine, Mr Luthor."

"Bet the Bat's your biggest fan."

"The Bat, Lex?"

"Awh, don't play dumb with me, Doc. You must have seen him. Lunatic dressed like a big ol' bat lookin' fine and fightin' crime!"

Crane arches a brow, "You think there's a man in Gotham who fights crime dressed like a bat?"

Lex's smile falters.

( _Did you kill your father, Lex? Did you really?_ )

"Tell me about this bat, Lex," Crane says, he sounds intrigued.

Lex hesitates. "If he's made up why do you want to know about him?"

Crane cocks his head, calm, snake-like, "You must have made him up for a reason, Lex. I'm here to help you find that reason. I'm here to make you better."

Lex laughs. Laughs and laughs and laughs.

Crane sighs, "I really wish you wouldn't make me do this to you, Lex."

\---

"Bruce Wayne," Lex mumbles. He is sprawled on his mattress - Crane is there, maybe, sat with cold eyes and folded hands and a neatly pressed suit.

Lex laughs. Lex giggles, " _Bruce Wayne_. Can you believe it? Prince of Gotham. Tabloid darling. Gotham Bat. The Black Knight himself. Poetic, isn't it? Watches his parents get gunned down and throws on a cape and cowl to rid his city of evil!"

Crane hums. Notes something down.

Maybe he doesn't. Maybe he's not even there.

"Maybe it's not poetic. It's cliché, actually." Lex sighs, "Dull, dull, dull, dull, _dull._ "

"Bruce Wayne," Crane's voice echoes.

"Bruce Wayne," Lex mumbles. "Bruce Wayne."

(It's Bruce's fault he's in here.)

"No Lex," says Crane, "I don't think that's true at all."

\---

 _Men don't fly, Lex,_ Crane says, again and again and again. _Demons don't come from above or below, they don't exist. You're intelligent, you must know that._

_You're sick, Lex. I just want to make you better._

(Go ahead and tell them, Junior. Who'd believe _you_ over _me_?)

\---

There is a man in the corner of Lex's room. A man dressed as a bat.

The walls are wailing, it must be night time.

"Oh no," Lex mumbles. He sits up. It's difficult when your arms are strapped to your chest. They're tingly. Trapped nerves, he thinks. Circulation cut off.

The Bat takes a step towards him. Towards his bed.

 _Bruce,_ his mind insists. _Bruce Wayne._

"Who did you tell about me?" The Bat-Bruce asks, snarls. He's tall. Towering. His voice is distorted.

Lex laughs at him, if he could he'd spread his hands, "Who would I tell? I'm mad! I'm locked up! Who would _believe_ me?"

"Who did you tell, Lex?" His voice is low.

"Your voice is supposed to be different," Lex tells him. "Softer." The Bat is his dream after all.

The Bat growls, low in his throat and then he's by the bed. "WHO DID YOU TELL?" Bruce roars. He has Lex by the front of his jacket, he has Lex against the wall.

"Who would I tell?" Lex repeats, his voice breaks. Who _would_ he tell? He's alone in here.

Alone, alone, alone.

( _Go ahead and tell, Junior. Who would believe you, anyway?_ )

"Who would believe me, anyway?" Lex mumbles. Lex frowns.

It didn't used to be this way, he thinks.

The Bat lets him go. Lex slides down the wall, tips forwards against his Bat. "Did I dream you so big?" he mumbles. He closes his eyes as the world spins. "My arms hurt."

The Bat sighs. Lex feels it.

It doesn't feel fake.

The Bat's arms come up, reaching behind Lex. Lex is too tired to wonder what he's doing. Usually, his dreams have done much worse to him by now.

 _They can't hurt you, Lex,_ Crane assures him when Lex's wailing gets to be embarrassing for the both of them. _They're not real._

"You're not real," Lex tells the Bat. "You can't hurt me."

"I'm not trying to hurt you," The Bat says. His voice is gruff. Softer. Like Lex thinks it should be.

The jacket slides off easy. The Bat tosses it into a corner. His hand comes up, brushes through Lex's hair, then it drops, the other one comes up, they land on Lex's arms, start rubbing the feeling back into them.

"Crane's drugs must not be working anymore," Lex mumbles. "You're not meant to be this nice."

"Crane?" The Bat asks.

"The Good Doctor Jonathon Crane," Lex says. "Fancies himself quite the chemist."

The Bat hums. The sound reverberates in his chest, reverberates through Lex. "He did this to you?"

"He's making me 'better'," Lex tells him. "He wants me to be _well._ "

The Bat looks unconvinced.

\---

(Lex thinks the Bat stays until he falls asleep. It's nice to know he can still have _some_ good dreams.)

\---

Lex wakes up and the world has stopped spinning. There's a woman in his cell, prim and proper, neat dark hair, kitten heels.

"Mr Luthor? I'm Joan Leland, your new doctor. How are you feeling?"

Lex sits up. The world is still steady.

"Dr Crane was arrested a few weeks ago. He's been locked up in Blackgate. You've been touch and go since then, it took a while for that drug to get out of your system. Do you remember much?"

Lex looks back. Everything is hazy but he remembers Crane's gas, Crane's lies. Crane's _manipulations._

"Mr Luthor?" Leland prompts.

Lex looks at her, staples on a wide smile. "Well, I feel right as rain, sunshine."

He'll be sure to check in the good doctor when he breaks out of this place. Pick his brain. Run some experiments with that wonderful toxin.

Get to the bottom of Crane's fears.

**Author's Note:**

> guys our boy is coming back for justice league, i'm probably late to the party on that news but !!!


End file.
